


Insufferable Alliances

by wingedlioness



Series: merintrash [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, hints of Mulan/Ruby, jealous Macintosh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedlioness/pseuds/wingedlioness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newly crowned Queen Merida tries to enjoy the festivities in her honour with all of the clans but finds herself distracted by one insufferable fool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Private Party

**Author's Note:**

> This could easily be a one shot but is likely to be 3 chapters, another to come out after the next episode but set prior to Merida's arrival in SB, and then another to wrap-up post SB. It will hopefully be canon compliant, but shall be minimal canon divergent at the very least. It is also going to be quite fluffy.

Merida had expected the crown to feel heavy, to be a burden. And tomorrow she knew it would be. Tomorrow she would say goodbye to her father, thanks to the witch, and would sharpen the her blade against the coward in the South but tonight… Tonight she felt free and right for the first time in a long while. The clans were united, the good ale was flowing, and – was Macintosh staring at her again? Before she could examine the flutter in her heart more closely, Ruby gave a small cough beside her.

She glanced over, startled out of her reverie.

“You doing alright there? You seem distracted,” Ruby’s seemingly concerned expression was belied by a cocked eyebrow.

Merida could feel the flush rising. “Aye, jus’ enjoying the moment. Didn't think we’d get here, is all.

Mulan nodded at her, “I knew you would. You have the heart and honour of a true leader.”

“My da’ may have paid you to spout tha’ drivel, but I ain't gonna,” Merida teased.  

Mulan wrinkled her nose as Ruby joined in giggling.

“Speaking of ruling, Your Majesty, perhaps you should allow your subjects to celebrate with you for a bit.” Ruby’s eyes twinkled merrily at Merida after a pointed sweep of the hall. “I think some of them may be envious two outsiders are hogging all of your attention.”

There was no stopping the blush now as it stained her cheeks to match her hair.

***

Macintosh glowered at his tankard as Merida’s clear, sweet laugh rang out in the hall. Those foreign women seemed lovely, certainly. Of course his qu-- _their_ queen was enjoying the visitors’ company. After all, they had helped her best the crazy hag’s quest and the bastard that murdered their king. But perhaps at her coronation feast she should be mingling with her clansmen instead of carousing with strangers.

Even as he tried to follow the thread of conversation with Dingwall and Macguffin, he spied Merida getting up out of the corner of his eye. She was so bright, glowing really, and he could see her eyes sparkling from here. Macguffin nudged Dingwall, who snickered in response.

“Oi. I saw that, ya wankers.” Macintosh flicked crumbs at the both of them.

“Mebbe if ye stopped gawking at our poor Queen, she’d actually come over and sit a spell wit’ us.”

Macguffin nodly emphatically as Dingwall sat back in challenge. Macintosh simply rolled his eyes at the two of them. As he threw back his ale, his eyes immediately sought out Merida. She was listening intently to a soldier’s story, her hand resting most casually on his shoulder. He felt sick. Maybe he’d had too much drink. Twas a poor lord that couldn’t handle his liquor, but there was no other explanation for it.

“Ya know, I think I need some air, lads. I’ll see you anon, aye?”

He hurried off before he could see the pitying looks he knew Macguffin and Dingwall to be exchanging. The men were the brothers he never asked for and the last thing he wanted to see after all they’ve been through was sympathy for a lovesick fool in their eyes.

***

The cool air of the courtyard was numbing. And perfect. Even the guards had been participating in the revels, not a soul to be seen. He’d have to have a few heads in the morn, but not much he could do against unconscious souls. And honestly he needed the space to think.

When she had run off after her father’s death, Macintosh had assumed the fiery, commanding lass from years ago gone. She hadn't been on the front lines with them as the invaders attacked; she hadn't shown up at all. Her subsequent desertion seemed proof that their queen-to-be had abandoned her duty. Taking her brothers as a means to try and flush her out was stupid and cowardly. Knowing that now didn't help the shame that still swirled in his belly at the thought. And knowing her father had engineered her absence in the battle field only compounded it. How could he have doubted the young lass that defied all four of the clans and, most impressively, her own mother just because she refused to marry a person she didn't love and choose herself? She may have shown them mercy, but it was no wonder she had little desire to interact with him. He knew he was being irrational. She had shown that she forgave and even respected him, hells, going as far as offering him the crown. That only served to show how unworthy of her affections he truly was.

This self pity was doing no good, but he let himself indulge a bit more as his treacherous mind brought back the images of her brilliant smile directed at another, her skilled hand caressing another’s skin… He was far more attractive than any man in that room. Ever since her refusal of any suitor years prior, he’d worked diligently to match his strength and wit to the good looks he was born with.

If only she would _bloody_ notice.

He sighed, and let his head fall against the stone wall. He just needed a moment to wallow and then he’d be good to return to the celebration.

***

Merida watched him leave the hall in a bit of a hurry, a strange scowl on his face. She apologized as she realized she had missed out on the (rather anticlimatic, truth be told) punchline of her kinsman’s story. She finally made her way to Dingwall and Macguffin as they were running their mouths about some poor sod.

“And who’s this then? This ‘poor sod’ ye lads have such pity for?”

The men exchanged an odd look before nodding at Macintosh’s empty seat.

“Mac, m’lady,” Dingwall explained. “He overindulged a wee bit but left for the night air without his cloak, y’see.”

“Ah,” Merida’s eyes lit upon the garment draped on his chair. “Seems rather odd to be pitying a man for leaving his furs behind who ne’er bothered to learn what a shirt is for, eh?”

Macguffin chuckled as Dingwall elbowed him.

“As you say, Majesty,” both nodded and raised their tankards. “To you.”

Merida couldn’t stop the grin and light blush that reappeared on her face. She grabbed the nearest stein and knocked it to theirs. Desperately trying to not think of whose lips had touched the cup last, she drained it as fast as they and cheered with them as all three managed a simultaneous finish.

“Well, as you were, lads. I’ll bring the wee babe his cloak so you mothers can stop fretting.”

They laughed and pretended offense as she waved Maudie over to refill their cups. She gathered up Macintosh’s cloak and weaved her way out the same path she’d seen him travel earlier. And if she took a moment to bury her face in his furs once out of the noise and light of the great hall, well that was no one’s business but her own.

***

For a great hulk of a man, he certainly managed to be hard to find. Merida had walked the length of courtyard _twice_ and there was no sign of the idiot. Her arms were growing tired with the weight of the cloak. Perhaps this is why he’d gotten so fit; bloody thing was damn heavy.  Giving up on her self-appointed mission, she instead heaved the furs over the wall to Angus’s stall. Macintosh had probably just rejoined his men to continue the fete and would never know of her selfless act. The wanker. Angus snuffed at the item intruding in his space curiously, giving it a tentative nibble.

“‘Ey you, none of that now.” Merida shoved his nose away. “Las’ thing I need is you eating his fluff ‘ere. He’s like to mutiny again or something. It’s probably a grave offense to Clan Macintosh, defrocking their beloved lord.”

She giggled into Angus’s neck as her ears caught up to her words.

“Well, I suppose defrocking may no’ be that bad an action to a lad as pretty as that,” she whispered to him.

She huffed and leaned into her horse. Somewhere in the bickering and yelling and heated stares he had wormed his way under her skin. And earlier, the intensity in his eyes as he knelt before her so willingly, the smile he barely let slip as he had the nerve to compare her to Fergus, leading the cheer as she stood up to the witch…

Just when had this gotten so complicated.

A cool zephyr danced around the horse and managed to engulf her before moving on.

“I’ll be damned if I carted this fool thing around for nothin’,” Merida said decisively to Angus.

He swished his tail as she swung the furs around her shoulders and was instantly buried in fuzzy warmth.

“Mmm, whatcha think?” She asked Angus even as she snuggled into it. “More suited for a Queen than a pretty boy, aye?”

***

Macintosh gave the dark hills a last once over before ducking back through the gate into the courtyard. He had no idea how he could garner his Queen’s favour but he was not going to stop trying. Nor would he act a petulant child if she chose someone else. In public, at any rate. Before he could approach the Great Hall again, he heard a very distinct titter coming from the stables. Only Merida would duck out of her own coronation feast to spend time with her horse. A smile came unbidden and unrelenting as he changed his course to go tease her about her priorities but slid off his face when she came in to view.

Not only was she acting all sorts of silly, chattering with her steed and twirling about like a child but she was _wearing his cloak_. He had thought the sight of her as newly crowned Queen the most beautiful vision in his life but this far surpassed that in ways he didn’t know possible. The hope rising in his chest nearly lifted him off the ground.

The shock morphed into amusement right quickly, and he strode over to the unsuspecting lass.

“Ach, lookit me. I'm the finest warrior in _aaaaall_ the clans. I've got the long, flowing locks to prove it!” Merida strutted about in front of Angus, quite oblivious to her new audience member. “I go about shirtless like a dafty just as to ensnare unprepared women and menfolk.”

“Ya wearing the wrong colour if yer to be me, lassie.”

Macintosh got a faceful of Merida's hair as she whipped around.

“M- Ma- Macintosh!” Her stammering matched her steps as she stumbled. “What are you – I – where did – I was looking for you,” she ended lamely.

“Ah. It looked that way indeed,” Macintosh mocked her.

His cloak had thrown her further off balance as it swung, causing her to fall against him. He made no effort to help her regain her footing, more concerned with controlling the desire raging through his veins. She glared up at him as she grasped his arm.

“You could help your Queen,  ye big oaf.”

“Oh but I thought I was in the presence of the ‘finest warrior in _aaaaall_ the clans’. Surely such a presence wouldn't require the help of a ‘shirtless dafty’.”

She was so close, fingers still wound tightly on his forearm, his cloak skewed over her opposite shoulder.

“I'm not wearing the right fool colours, apparently.”

That came out far different than she intended, the teasing tone a bit too breathless, the words a little too leading. She wasn't sure she was ever going to find her way out of his eyes.

“You could, ye kno’.”

His whisper reached her ears even as his lips brushed hers. Merida felt her skin set aflame as his free arm circled around her back. She had just loosened her hold as to _finally_ feel those dark locks between her fingers when he pulled back. She opened her eyes, confused. The pride of Clan Macintosh left a kiss so gentle and tentative she wouldn't believe it happened if she wasn't so bloody overheated now. Macintosh began to fidget under her scrutiny. She took another moment to wonder incredulously at his unexpected timidity before yanking at the chains of his furs.

“I dinnae how in blazes you wear this furnace of a cloak,” she muttered as she fought to get it off.

His nervous laugh spurred her on and she emerged triumphant, flashing him a grin. Not allowing another awkward moment, she pulled his hand back around her waist and met his mouth with rather more force. He moaned as she tried tasting his upper lip and it didn't take but a breath for her encouragement to break through his hesitance. He lifted her into his firm chest as their tongues twined in an ardent dance. Her hands in his hair and eager responses seemed to give him confidence to hold her tighter, his own hands growing bolder.

Merida had no idea how long they stood interlocked, but when they finally broke apart for air, she felt she would need significant more opportunities to learn every detail of that beautiful mouth and talented tongue. Perhaps not on a night that someone was sure to come searching for her though.

He seemed to be following the mood change as he placed his forehead to hers. “So I ensnared ye, did I?”

“Ugh. Yer insufferable, Macintosh.”

“I believe you mean ‘incomparable’, my Queen.”

She pursed her lips as she studied him.

“Nay, definitely insufferable.”

Damn responsibilities, it was her celebration and she was going to spend a few more minutes kissing a great bloody fool.


	2. Stolen Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merida plans her revenge on the false king of the south and Macintosh isn't too happy about her strategy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still only rated G/T. Depends on where half-dressed Scotsmen rank for you.

Merida's bow was vibrating under the strain of the string pulled taut. She could feel the trickle of sweat down her throat. Not being able to wipe it away was going to drive her nuts. If she weren't an accomplished warrior about to make the best practice shots of her life, that is.

She exhaled slowly and released. The arrow went firing through the air and whipped through the trees, followed by two more in rapid succession. She held her breath anxiously, feeling the man behind her do the same. A moment later, a head of red curls popped out of the forest waving excitedly. Merida let out a loud whoop and turned to slap hands with Macguffin. He grinned back at her, his large form blocking her eyes from the morning sun. Dingwall whistled appreciatively as her brothers brought back the targets. All three had been pierced through, dead center shots.

Merida allowed herself a self-satisfied grin as the lads all huddled around her arrows, examining a job very well done. If Arthur still had that witch by his side, she was going to be ready for both of them.

“What’s this then?”

She couldn’t stop the sudden flush the deep voice stirred up. Macintosh strode through the gate, looking bemused as her brothers stopped jabbering simultaneously to reveal the destroyed effigies.

“Look, Mac! From _ninety meters_ out, she pierced ‘em all in one go!”

“Ach, stop it. Tweren’t one go. Everyone knows firin’ three at a time ain’t gonna work at tha’ distance.”

The youngest rolled his eyes. “Close enough, ya idiot.”

“Oi! Watch it! Nae callin’ yer Queen an idiot.”

“When she’s as big a one as you, someone’s gotta!” He ducked as Merida went to box his ears.

She was glad the risen sun had the good sense to hide her redden cheeks. She felt hyper aware of Macintosh even as she attempted to smack some respect into her snorting brothers. He approached the targets, and she noticed a small tick of his jaw. Two of the figures were adorned in black, the third covered in chain mail and a breastplate. Macguffin was showing off where Dingwall had nicked an arm and he a leg. He was uncharacteristically quiet. Normally he'd be grousing about missing an impromptu competition or bragging about how he would've beaten them all. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was peeved. And that just made no sense.

***

Macintosh had every intention of joining the group if only to tease them for not wanting to retrieve him for want of a proper contest. Well, not only. It had been also a full day since he had kissed Merida (and she kissed him, oh she had kissed him) and other than a few heated glances, they’d had no time together. He’d take any and all excuses he could get at this point, just to rile her up and see if she’d repeat the performance. But that changed as he realized precisely what her practice targets represented.

“Ye’ve shot the witch, and that bloody Southerner.”

“Two of the witch, actually. Figure she’s like to try and be all ...witchy. And sneaky.” Merida began gathering up her equipment. “So I had me brothers run them out to a distance not even one as her would see it comin’.”

She beamed up at him as he stood still over the likenesses. She was quite pleased with this morning’s exercise. Now she had the confidence that she could surprise that bastard of a king and any magical cronies he controlled long enough to get justice for her father.

“Yer goin’ after them.”

That same dull tone. She exchanged looks with Wee and Guff, only for them to back away a bit to help her brothers pack up. The traitors.

“What’re you on about? ‘Course I am. Bastard murdered my father, your king. He was gonna use magic to force his men to follow ‘im. He needs to be stopped.”

Macintosh finally met her gaze. She was startled by the anger and glint of fear in his eyes.

“But no one’s preparin’ for even the lightest of skirmishes… Ye haven’t told the guard, nor your mother. You’re planning on goin’ alone.”

He turned away again, breaking eye contact. She thrust her chin out and stepped into his space. She made to put her hand on his arm before clenching her fist and bringing it back to her side. There was a good chance touching him would lead to punching sense into his thick head (or mebbe kissing it out of him).

“I’m not gonna risk a war--”

“If you're going to lead us in to war, lead us! Don't do this skulkin’ about!” He whipped around to face her.

Merida was unprepared for the ferocity of his outburst. She stood, mouth agape a moment as his chest heaved. How could he be asking her to command the clans to yet another battle? How could she allow herself to bring anyone on a merry chase right to the home of the bastard? She rallied herself quickly. He obviously had no idea the stakes in such a venture.

“I don’t _want_ a war. I cannae risk anyone else! Not again, not-- ARGH!” She threw her arms up and stalked away.

She began ripping her arrows out the targets, barely noticing that the others seemed to have disappeared entirely. There was no point in arguing with this daft fool. She thought he of all people would understand. So many had died in just the small invasion Arthur had led, if they were to try and breach his lands with a full force… She just couldn’t. She refused to watch more men write out wills unnecessarily. One woman could get the job done where a few dozen men wouldn’t.

Macintosh came beside her, “I can not let you-- "

"Let me? _Let me?!_ I am your Queen! You don’t get to _let_ me do anythin’!” She whirled towards him, jabbing ferociously at his chest. “This man murdered our king, was willin’ to abuse his men, will stoop to magic, and came into my kingdom. This is my responsibility. I will stop him, get justice for my father and peace for our lands.”

His hand engulfed hers, pushing it flat against him. “Merida, I--”

She made the mistake of looking into his eyes and suddenly his lips were on hers. His other hand was behind her head, pulling her as close as possible. For a brief moment all she could breathe, think was him. The fervor of the argument passed through their lips and she felt her knees go weak.

“No. no,” she pulled away even as her body fought her to go back. “You do not get to, that is not, you cannae change my mind. You have no right.”

He looked wrecked as she stalked off, arm still reaching out.

***

He couldn’t believe he had been so stupid. He had just been trying to get her to at least trust in her men, in _him_ , to not go it alone and instead he…

Macintosh sighed. It’s not like he could regret kissing her. But he certainly could regret pushing her away. It seemed like he was doomed to fail when it came to her. All he could do was hope that she would take some of what he said to heart, before her fire and his desire had gotten the better of him. That and destroy the practice dummies in the yard. He placed his cloak next to Merida’s forgotten belongings and drew his sword. These wooden men wouldn’t know what hit them.

***

Merida’s pillow welcomed her scream benevolently. That man was so frustrating. How could she had even considered giving him her crown? The arrogant, pompous, infuriating, righteous, gorgeous, warm, suppor-- _arrogant_ arsehole! She buried her head back into the pillow and screamed again. Flopping over to her back, she stared blankly at her ceiling. She totally forgot her equipment in her haste to get away, hadn’t she? Well that could wait a while longer. Her bed was comfortable and free of confusion, soulful eyes, and tempting lips. Nice and safe. Aye, her things could wait an hour or twelve.

Her door creaked open and soft footsteps entered. She let her mother wander the room, doing heavens knows what, humming to herself.  Huh. There was a small crack in the wood above her bed. She should probably get that seen to before it got worse, or before she took out her grievances out on the bedpost again.

“Well isn’t that an interesting sight.”

Merida groaned,” what, Mum?”

“Seems Lord Macintosh is getting some sword practice in. He’s definitely improved, aye?”

She rolled over. Whatever her mother was on about, it obviously had nothing to do with her.

"For all his faults he certainly is a dedicated lad, isn't he?" She pushed the curtain open further even as Merida rolled her eyes.

"And more than a bit handsome, even if he knows it," Elinor murmured to herself.

Merida shot up, "ach, Mum, I don't wanna be hearin' this!"

Her mother let the curtain fall back as she turned with a smile. “Well that’s true. I suppose you don’t need me to tell ye what ye already know.”

Merida simply glared from the bed, trying to will her to either leave her alone or spit out what she had come in to say. Her mother continued to smile serenely, padded past her pausing only to pat her gently on the head. She really needed to work on the Queen’s Death Stare if her mother was this unfazed.

Elinor stopped in the doorway, “ye could do worse, Merida. Although judgin’ by how ye left him all forlorn this morning, I’m not so sure _he_ could.”

With that last jab, she glided down the hallway. Merida flew after her ready to yell only to find her mother already headed down the stairs. She shut the door and slumped behind it. Her mother had seen that? Oh bugger everything.

***

The only thing stopping Macintosh from dropping his blade on the ground was the decades of training. Twas a poor swordsman and soldier that let his weapon fall unheeded. Though he couldn’t recall whether his trainers had ever said anything about said soldier sprawling down with his sword but decided against it. Last thing he needed was one of the servants or guards to see the head of Clan Macintosh laid on the ground with nary an enemy to justify his position. But damned if he wasn’t still sorely tempted. He settled for sheathing his sword, dropping down on the bench near the practice grounds and burying his head in his arms.

The workout had accomplished clearing of his head enough that he knew he needed to go apologize to his Queen. He heaved himself up and dusted his kilt off. There was nothing for it but to swallow his pride and go straight away.

His resolve weakened as he reached the Queen’s closed door. What on earth could he say to convince her to bring even a small contingent of men? He knew better to think she could be talked out of it altogether. And she was right; Arthur was definitely the type of wanker that would not stop once he had his mind set on something. But the thought of her near the monster, alone. He couldn’t even pretend that he was worried solely for the welfare of his Queen now. Not after, oh damn if he knew what those kisses meant for her. His heart was now even more firmly tied up in her fate and wellbeing. Maybe if he just stood outside her door forever, he’d know she was safe and whole. And he wouldn’t have to apologize yet again for being an overstepping dolt. Not that he’d ever actually, officially, apologized. He had really bungled it, hadn’t he? Standing outside her rooms forever was sounding like a better plan every moment. Until the door swung in and a tantalizing warm and pliant body crashed into his own.

***

Merida had enough of this wallowing. She was the Queen and she’d made a decision. Macintosh could go hang for all she cared. Not that she did, care that is. Well whatever, she was done. She would go and collect her gear, join all the clans at the evening feast, and then be off to dispatch the world of a false king. She scrambled to her feet and made for the crown on her dresser. She jammed it down on her head and straightened her dress. Presentable enough, that would do. She turned on her heel and marched straight to the door, tearing it open. Instead of the open hallway she expected, she instead barreled face first into a muscled body.

“Ow…” She rubbed her nose carefully, holding on to one of the arms that instinctively circled her.

“You alright lass?”

She squinted up at Macintosh, his face full of worry as his fingers brushed her hair out of her face.

“What are you made out of, stone?”

He laughed at that, a slight pink settling on his cheeks. “I’m glad to know that my Queen has noticed that I am unlike ordinary men.”

“Aye, normal men don’t lie in wait for unsuspecting maidens,” Merida complained.

She regarded his obviously repentant posture and the concern in his eyes before letting her head fall on to his chest. She felt his breath hitch and marveled at the obvious effect she had on him. If only she could take the time to explore the depths of that… But no. Her kingdom and punishing her father’s killer came first. Macintosh remained stock still for a moment before tentatively putting his hand flush on her back, rubbing gentle circles through her dress. She brushed her cheek along the dusting of hair before leaning back to catch his eyes again. He looked as dazed as their collision had rendered her. She simply shook her head before going up on her toes to capture his lips. She lingered there for a sweet moment, nothing more than gentle pressure and a low heat before dropping back down and taking his hand.

“Come on then, we’ll miss the best food if we dawdle ‘ere,” she tugged him along.

It was all Macintosh could do to keep his wits enough to not trip over his own feet, his gaze never leaving the hand entwined with his own.

***

The Great Hall was rowdy, as it always was with all four clans present. Merida slipped her fingers from Macintosh’s before they entered the hall, making her way towards the high table. She caught the disapproving stare of her mother only to roll her eyes as she watched it melt away when Elinor saw who followed directly behind her. Her mother was impossible, she decided. As was her hand that refused to stop mourning the warmth of the man now amongst his own clan.

Macintosh felt intoxicated and he had yet to even take the tankard placed in front of him. He had gone to apologize, or reason, or argue with her, he wasn’t even sure anymore. But instead she turned all of his plans on their heads and threw him off kilter. Whoever said that plans never survived contact with the enemy must’ve met Merida. He steeled himself to keep a wary eye on her all night, make sure she didn’t try to slip off on her own reckless quest but kept finding his observations getting sidetracked by the light in her smile, the bounce in her step. All evidence showed his Queen had little intention of anything this evening beyond good drink, food, and the occasional intense stare between them.

***

She chugged down her mug of ale and raised her eyebrow in challenge at Macintosh. He’d been watching her since they parted in the hall and she knew he was suspicious of her plans. He had obviously, slowly, relaxed as she did her best to throw herself into the boisterous gathering but she needed to push him as far past watchful as possible. Her deliberate provocation had just the result she hoped for. Before long he was doing his utmost to out-drink any that would take him on. That would do quite nicely.

***

The Great Hall felt lonely as the clans shuffled off to beds or dark corners as their sobriety dictated. Merida looked around the mess left behind with a bit of satisfaction. She now had two major gatherings under her belt where no big brawls broke out. In a row, no less. Now that made her feel like the greatest ruler in all the realms. She stepped carefully around the various snoring bodies and made her way to her room as swiftly as possible. No one appeared to be awake nor even stirring thus far. She successfully packed a bag and stole through the kitchen to sneak some food for her and Angus. The note she had left for her mother would be found in the morning and Elinor could most certainly handle the clans until her return. And if something went wrong, well, she was only risking herself. That was the only risk she was willing to take.

The black of night caused her to maneuver more slowly as she approached Angus’ stall. Thankfully her eyes had adjusted before she nearly stepped on a prone figure. It was a but a moment to recognize the tartan, and even easier as her eyes trailed up the bare chest and blue lines along one arm. Macintosh. He must’ve still been worried enough she’d go off on her own that he had made his way to try and block her departure path. Merida was definitely impressed, she had seen how poorly he could walk by the end of the night. She couldn’t stop the strange fluttering in her belly at his dedication either. It nearly made her rethink this plan. Nearly. But that would mean endangering others, endangering _him_. She refused to stoop to the coward’s level by using her own people. But, before she goes, perhaps a kiss for the journey?

***

Macintosh awoke to find himself reaching out for a person not there. Through his blinding headache, he could’ve sworn Merida’s lips were on his again, her hand caressing his jaw. He could even still smell her hair along his cloak. He remembered a hazy dream, her sweet mouth and then her voice in his ear. Something about farewell…

He made to roll over and duck his head out of the painful sunlight when he saw the empty stall beside him. He flew to his feet, ignoring his body’s protestations, and hurried to Merida’s rooms. He nearly ran over her brothers in the doorway before managing to stop. He looked to see Lady Elinor clutching a piece of paper and knew instantly from her expression. Merida had gone. She was seeking her revenge on Arthur all alone, he had failed.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap did this ever get away from me.  
> The intention is still one more chapter to be posted within a week or so of the midseason finale.

**Author's Note:**

> My official closing the lid on my very own Merintosh trash can. I am now stuck forever. 
> 
> Also, you can blame Ael_tRlailiiu for nervous kitten Macintosh. Which I rather love the idea of.


End file.
